Indra walked through the streets of Konoha, his small steps echoing faintly against the stone paths. Before long, the tall walls of the Uchiha compound came into view, the proud fan symbol carved into its entrance. Passing through, he made his way straight to his home.
Click.
The soft sound of the door greeted him. "I'm home!" he called out, half-expecting Renji's voice to answer.
Silence.
Indra slipped off his sandals and glanced around the quiet house. His eyes narrowed. It's… pretty dirty.
With a sigh, he went to the storage room, pulling out a broom and dustpan. Tossing the dustpan near the entrance, he started with his own room. Normally, Renji handled the cleaning. But now… if his brother wasn't around, the house couldn't just fall into disarray.
Thik.
The broom struck something under the bed. Frowning, Indra knelt down and tugged out a large, dust-covered box. He wiped its surface, revealing polished black wood that gleamed faintly.
Curiosity tightening his chest, Indra lifted the lid. Inside were scrolls, neatly stacked books, and sitting on top—an envelope.
"By Renji?" he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Settling onto the bed, he unfolded the letter.
"Indra, I hope you find this when I am dead…"
His smile faded. The words blurred for a moment as he stared, frozen, then he forced himself to keep reading silently.
Dear Indra,
If you've found this, it means I wasn't able to return. Inside this box are my writings, my experiences in battle, and jutsu I've collected—some C-rank, some B-rank. They're yours now.
If I broke my promise and left you behind, forgive me. Just know this one truth: I love you. And I always will.
A hot sting pricked his eyes. Tears slid down his cheeks before he could stop them. He wiped at his face with the back of his hand, gritting his teeth. No… my brother will come back alive. He has to.
Shaking off the heaviness, Indra forced himself to keep cleaning. Dust piled up at the door, swept neatly into the dustpan and tossed outside. He filled a bucket, wrung out a mop, and worked through the rooms one by one—his bedroom, the living room, then the kitchen. The quiet rhythm calmed him. Finally, with two small cloths, he scrubbed down the counters until the wood gleamed.
By the time he finished, night had settled over the compound.
In the kitchen, Indra stood on a stool before the counter, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed in determination. He gripped a wooden spoon as if it were a kunai, stirring a pot with the seriousness of a shinobi on mission.
The broth bubbled, releasing the scent of miso and simmering vegetables. Steam curled upward, fogging the windowpane, wrapping the little house in warmth.
"Too salty? Or… no, maybe it needs more broth," Indra muttered, sipping from the ladle. His face scrunched. "Tch—Renji would've done this better."
Still, he pressed on. Carefully, he laid strips of fish onto a small iron pan. The skin sizzled instantly, popping oil threatening to jump onto his hands. Indra gripped the handle tighter, leaning back cautiously. The savory scent of grilled fish soon mingled with the miso broth, filling the house and making his stomach growl.
He plated a small bowl of rice, added the fish, and placed the steaming soup onto the low table. Sitting cross-legged, he clapped his hands together softly.
"Itadakimasu," he whispered, the word carrying into the empty silence of the house.
The first bite warmed him. His lips curled into a faint, proud smile. "Not bad… I'll make it again when ni-san comes back."
But those words would be carried into a night where Renji was never meant to return.
---
Morning arrived too quickly. Indra had fallen asleep beside his pillow, and sunlight now streamed across his face. His eyes fluttered open, hazy. He glanced outside—
"Oh shit! I'm late!"
He tumbled out of bed, scrambled to the bathroom, and washed up in a blur. Within five minutes he staggered out, struggling to tug his shirt over his head. His gaze fell on the kitchen. He darted in, shoveled some leftover rice into his mouth, and spotted his coin purse.
Snatching it up, he dashed out the door.
Click.
The lock slid shut behind him as his sandals slapped against the stone streets of Konoha. He didn't stop until he reached a small bento shop.
"One onigiri bento, please!" he said, half out of breath.
The shopkeeper crouched, pulled one from the display, and handed it over. "Two hundred ryō."
Indra slapped the coins onto the counter, grabbed the bento, and bolted. The shopkeeper shook his head with a sigh. "Another late student…"
Down the road, a grandmother paused her walk, squinting at the boy sprinting. 'What a lousy brat. Even slower than me in my youth.' She chuckled, lost in memory. "Such good times…"
Indra finally skidded to a halt before the academy, panting. He pushed open the door.
Skiish!
Daiki's sharp eyes turned on him. "Why are you late, Uchiha Indra?" His voice was tired but stern.
"U-umm… I didn't wake up on time," Indra admitted, bowing slightly.
Silence stretched. Daiki's gaze lingered before he finally sighed. "Go to your seat. This is your warning."
"Understood, sensei." Indra hurried to his desk, exhaling in relief as he sank into his chair.
Minato leaned over with a small smile. "What happened? I thought you weren't coming today."
"I overslept," Indra muttered.
Noboru chimed in, "Indra, yesterday after training, my body felt exhausted too. But my chakra control feels sharper today."
"Good. Today I'll show you another exercise my brother taught me," Indra said, his voice carrying a trace of pride. "I haven't mastered it yet, but we'll practice together."
"Your brother is amazing," Noboru said earnestly.
"Truly amazing," Minato added with a grin. "He's even more handsome than you."
Both of them snickered. Indra pouted, although he was happy. "Wait—so am I ugly?"
...
Do you like the academy life? Should I expand it into more fifty chapters?
★Still reading? Why not drop a few POWERRRR stones...?★
After receiving many power stones...I believe it's time for a bonus chapter,ENJOY!